Comings and Goings of a Lost Soul
by kira66
Summary: AU This is told from the point of view of a character that we all know. It's the story of his life and when everything went wrong.
1. Chapter 1

Living on the streets isn't as hard as people make it out to be. Well, at least, not when your so high that everything around you is flying. That's how I spent five years of my life. I went from drug to drug without even thinking about quitting or slowing down. I just didn't care.

My only thoughts were on how to get money for my next fix? Work was out of the question. So I reverted to the age old career of stealing. It was the easiest and not to mention quickest way to get the money that I needed to support my addiction.

I used to live in the subway terminal under a pile of boxes and garbage. It wasn't much but it kept me semi warm from the brutal New York cold. And during the summer months I slept in doorways at night and left before the inhabitant could find me and shoo me off with a broom. Those things do hurt. I used to because I had been living in a small slum apartment in Spanish Harlem.

I can already imagine that you doing the math. I did say that I spent five years high without one single day of being down to earth. So that means that I was 10 when I started? Sorry but that is incorrect. Jumping to conclusions without all the facts isn't a wise course of action. So I guess I'll just have to fill you in.

My life didn't start out on the streets like most of you are assuming. See, there you go again with making conclusions without all the details. Anyways. I wasn't born to a junkie mom or a gang running dad. But lets leave that for last. Now where was I? Oh ya. I was going to fill you in. I was eight when I got my first taste of drugs. It was heroin and it was completely by accident.

I had just ran away from home, very intent on returning after I was sure that they worried about me. They would by my dad and new step mom. But upon my venture into the wondrous city of New York I happened upon a murder in progress. Two drug dealers were shooting at each other until finally one ran out of bullets. I don't have to tell you which one survived. That is something that you can assume. I shouldn't of stuck around but I was to terrified to move. Shell shocked at what I had just seen so when the man approached me it was clear that I had witnessed it all. So he was kind enough to introduce me to my new best friend, heroin. And not only did I get the addiction but I got the man to. He took me under his wing to make sure that I never accidently let it slip about what he had done. Because kids are really lose in the jaw when they want to be.

I didn't have to worry about Mellow T for to long. That's the name of the dealer that took me under his wing. I would later find out that the man that he killed was Gator, his partner turned squealer for the cops. As I was saying, I was under his wing for maybe a year and a half before he was gunned down by those who were loyal to Gator. Luckily I escaped from that battle with only a flesh wound to my leg. It hurt like hell but I managed to get it healed without going to a hospital. I couldn't go to the hospital. Not in my condition. I was still flying high from a earlier fix. One that Mellow T gave me right before he was killed. And if anyone at a hospital saw a nine year old kid like that...questions would of been asked. Questions that I didn't want to answer, right now.

Can you actually imagine that I grieved for Mellow. Not because he was such a good care giver but because I was an addict who until that moment was receiving free heroin to keep his mouth shut. I knew that the stuff was expensive to buy so I went to work. Here I was at nine years old and already breaking into cars and stealing old ladies purses. It lasted for about 2 years until people started to get smart and getting those new security systems put on their cars and old ladies never walked around alone. So that ended my addiction to heroin for awhile. At least until I could score some more money.

The first few days of withdraw was nothing like anyone could imagine unless they had physically experienced it. I walked around the streets in a daze with my eyes glazed over. I would start screaming for no apparent reason except for the fact that my blood felt on fire. People would try and help me but I ran. I knew where to hide so that they wouldn't find me.

It's the fifth day of withdrawal that I remember the clearest. I had been walking down by the piers just thinking about what I had become when I ran into a man. He was well dressed but acted like most of Mellow T's friends, jumpy. We got to talking, not like I had to fear strangers anymore. Who would want to kidnap a eleven year old junkie? He said his name was Thomas Copack but everyone called him Cola. Like I said, we got to talking. He could clearly see that I was having a tough time so he helped me. Turns out that Cola was a marijuana supplier and I had ran into him on the day that he was bringing a shipment into New York via boat from South America. He offered me a job said that kids were the easiest dealers since they were so small and could easily slip undetected into areas. In return for my services he would pay me $10.00 a delivery with free marijuana to numb the pains of my withdrawal. It worked. The longing and need for heroin was still there but once I took a couple of puffs of a joint, the need seemed to slip away. Slip away with my sense of reality.

I became known as Theory to those that I delivered to. They said that whoever came up with the theory that kids were easier dealers must of been a genius. They never asked who I worked for and when they asked me my name...Theory popped into my head.

So for another two years I made a name for myself. Theory became one of the most wanted dealers of marijuana on the streets of New York. Everyone wanted me. But everyone isn't always good. Soon I became a household name in many of the police precincts around the city. But they didn't have a clue to what I looked like or even my age. I surely had changed looks from when I was eight. I now walked with a limp, thanks to my old flesh wound. I carried a 9mm pistol that had been specially made for me by one of more well-known buyers, Tommy Cretan. Tommy was the one that informed me of my status amongst the police. And numerous scars marked my once boyish face. Some from fights and others from being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I even looked older than thirteen. Most said that I had to be at least eighteen maybe sixteen at the youngest. But I never verified nor denied their claims. And they never pressed it. I guess we had an understanding. I didn't ask any questions so they would return the favor. I greatly appreciated it. It made it easier to forget what I was doing.

Now we must take another look at Tommy. I thought he was a friend. I thought we saw eye to eye. But I should of figured something was wrong when only he knew of my celebrity status amongst the cops. But I never thought that Tommy would go squealing to the police about me.

I guess thought wrong because for my thirteenth birthday he delivered a big mouthed detective to my door step. I had been living in a small apartment in Spanish Harlem. The perfect place to lay low. He beat down my door and came barging in never even noticed me on the ratty looking couch until he searched the kitchen, bathroom and my bedroom. His search came to a end in my small living room. I could tell by his face that he knew I was the one he was looking for but he couldn't believe that his sources had been right about me. Now since I had been living in a building and neighborhood full of nothing but Spanish speaking people, I picked bits and pieces up. So when he started to speak, I started to ramble on and on in Spanish. Repeating the terms that I knew over and over again. I knew by the impatient look on his face that he wasn't buying it so I fell silent and just watched him. I knew him. How could I not. It was his face that had been plaguing my nightmares for the past five years. I scanned his face before turning my gaze to his hand. He still wore a wedding band which meant that he was still married. No surprise there. But when my eyes moved back to his face it was the look in his eyes that made my blood run cold. There was nothing but hatred and contempt there. Hatred of me. When I didn't move at his command I knew that the blow was coming. Even he couldn't look past my dealings to see the terrified thirteen year old boy. He only scum that needed to be off the street. I felt the blood when it began to trickle down from my nose and I knew that my eye would be swollen shut before long. I was stunned for a moment but that was enough time for him to slap handcuffs on me and hauls me into his car. I couldn't help but feel a touch of gratitude towards my neighbors who all booed and threw garbage at the detective as he was taking me out.

His partner was waiting inside with a amused little smile on his face. Like he knew what went on but would have sudden amnesia if I pressed any charges. That's how things are inside a precinct. They all stick up for each other. I would stay quiet for now. Just thinking about the last five years of my life and what would of been different if I had only stayed home that night? Or if I would of ran when I saw Mellow T kill Gator? I wouldn't be sitting in the back of this unmarked squad car, that's for sure.


	2. Chapter 2

I didn't know what was going to happen to me when we finally reached the 15th precinct. I was hauled out of the car by the smaller detective this time. And then forced up stairs into the upper level which held the detective unit. I had been there before but under better circumstances. Next I was forced into a chair just outside a bunch of desks and in front of the secretary. A armed police man was posted at my side while they got one of the booking rooms ready for me. I let my eyes take in the familiar sights. It looked so much smaller now than the last time I saw it. But my eyes stop on the secretary sitting right across from me. Also a man that I knew. I must of been staring at him for a while because he looked up and gave me a small smile. I cleared my throat and gave him a smile back but it soon faded after the pain of my face caught up with me. I must of winced because he was suddenly on his feet with a first aid kit, ready to tend my wounds. I guess he was the only one that saw me for a kid instead of scum. "Thank You" I sincerely said once he finished caring for my battered face. His gentle hands calmed me to a point where I actually missed not being able to live my childhood, normally. I could take my chances with him since my looks were different and my voice was beginning to change. He wouldn't recognize me but a small part of me wished he would. Then my nightmare would be over. But I had no such luck because once I was brought out of my longings, he was already back at his desk working. With a shake of my head I looked around the room once again. Familiar faces mixed with strange ones but my eyes were soon drawn to the loud mouth detective and the pretty little blonde he was talking to. I knew my breathing had increased but I didn't really pay any attention until the officer assigned me tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I was ok? I kept my eyes on the floor after that.

I sat in that chair, eyes on the floor, for about another half an hour. I think they forgot about me until then. The assigned officer was dismissed and I was hauled into one of the booking rooms. It wasn't anything to brag about. The walls were crumbling brick and the room smelt like old coffee and stale donuts. I was then roughly forced into another chair sitting by a small table which was in the center of the room. My eyes still lowered. "What is this about, detectives?" I hear myself ask over my rapidly beating heart.

The short loud mouthed detective slammed the door and took his position on my left while the younger man sat on my right. "I think you know what this is about so cut the bullshit." The loud mouthed one said.

I glances up in time to see the young man, his partner, give him a look. "Listen Andy. I know the beef you have against dealers but this one is just a kid. Sixteen, if that. So why don't you lay off him a bit. His face should be a painful reminder that he shouldn't dick us around."

I dropped my eyes again and traced the grain of the table with my dirty fingernail. "Alright John. If you think this little scum bag deserves to be gone easy on. Talk now kid and we might be able to save your soul." Andy said, sarcastically.

I couldn't believe my position. "I really have no idea what your referring to, Sir. You're the one that barged into my apartment and..." I stopped before I could mention my face. I knew that would be the wrong thing to do. It would only set Andy off again.

"Your wasting our time kid. What's your name anyways?" It was John who asked this.

I shook my head and shrugged. "I'm called Theory by those who know me. My real name doesn't matter anymore." My voice was barely above a whisper.

Andy slammed his hand down onto the table making me jump and almost cower away. "It seems that you don't like to give out your name, asshole. All of our informants know nothing about you so why don't you fill us in?" Andy was losing his patience with this little brat.

My patience were wearing thin. My insides were in a knot. The only thing going through my head was how would he react if he knew who I really was? How would they all react? So I decide to play with my inside knowledge. Scare them a little but just to see where it gets me. "There is nothing to fill in, Detective Sipowicz. I am a nobody. A nobody that has seen things that even you would throw up from and yet I am still standing." I push the chair back and stand. "At the age of eight I was addicted to heroin. After that came marijuana which is what your trying to pin on me now. Well I admit it. I will admit that being hooked to something so simple as marijuana has been a savior to me. It's a lot better than heroin. Withdrawal from that is..." I shake my head and shiver. "Forget it. I know that you think of me nothing more than scum on the bottom of your high priced shoes and that doesn't bother me. But do you treat your own children with this same malice and anger when they get into the cookie jar or refuse to eat their dinner?" I couldn't stop now. Tears were pooling at the corner of my eyes. I needed to get this off my chest. "Or how about when Connie goes onto an assignment that you forbid her too? Do you drink detective?" I knew that I crossed the line right there. I saw the anger flash in Andy's eyes as he stood and grabs me by the neck, throwing me into the closed door and then pounding me to a almost bloody pulp. Tears were falling freely now but I never made a noise. I knew better than that. I left him release his anger on me. What would it matter if he killed me? He doesn't know me? Not anymore at least. I let out a breath of release when John pulled him off my bleeding body and pushed him out of the room. I don't know when we moved away from the door and I don't really care. Everything went blissfully black after that.

When I woke up, I'm still in the room but wrapped up in blankets. I am alone or so I think. I hurt all over and my ribs were tapped tightly. I tried to sit up once but a wave of dizziness washes over me and I lay back down. I let the tears fall this time and sobs race through my body. This time I cry for the scared little boy that I once was and for the scared little boy that I still am. The sobs stopped as suddenly as they appeared when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I must of tensed up before a soothing voice told me to relax and that I was safe. It was a women. I sat up slowly this time and opened my one good eye up, peering at the women. She must of been sitting in the shadows of the room because I would of seen her otherwise. I open my mouth to speak but my bottom lip is cracked open and stings from the dryness. I lick my lips and pull myself up using a nearby chair. I notice all the other bandages over my body. At least they didn't want me to die. Another wave of dizziness sweeps over me but I manage to sit in the chair that I had used to get up. "I won't press charges." I wheeze out. God it hurt to even breath. She gave me this odd quizzical look.

"Why wouldn't you press charges? Andy went to far. Your just a kid and he snapped." She stated softly.

Oh how I wanted to run into her arms and let her fight my demons like old times. "I over stepped the line. I should of never..." I shook my head. "People always jump to conclusions. I don't blame them. I would think the worse of me if I was any one of you." I was shaking now. I know that my high from the previous weed was almost gone and my body is withdrawing but I can handle it. "But none of you know me and I would have it kept that way. Knowing me could only destroy lives." I whispered. And then a thought popped into my head. I didn't even know what my sibling was. My dads wife was pregnant before I left. I had a little sister. But she wasn't really. Her mother had been killed and my dad was helping to raise her. "Do you have any kids, Detective?" I knew that was what she was. She's the blonde that I saw Andy talking with earlier.

She nodded her head. "I have two daughters and a son. One daughter I gave up many years ago for adoption and the other is my sisters baby. God rest her soul. And the boy is my husbands and mine. A husband that caused you so much pain today." Her voice was sad.

"No. It is I who caused so much pain. I had a family once but I took it for granted. I was used to it just being me and my dad. My mom died when I was little. When my dad got together with the new girl...I liked her at first but then she started to invade our lives. Things started to happen so fast and I wasn't given a chance to adjust. I was even pushed aside and forgotten about. I only meant to runaway for a little while. To see if they even noticed me gone. Everything went wrong then. I saw something by accident and after that everything was down hill." Tears were once again falling. "I was just a baby forced into being an adult. Please don't let your kids grow up to be like me. I beg of you." I stopped talking then. I couldn't go on. It hurt to much. Not just the pain from my beating but the pain of knowing that my family didn't even miss me.

"How old are you?" She asked softly. She felt sorry for this boy and his story was even more tragic.

"Detective Clark said that I might be sixteen but he's a little off. I just turned thirteen today. Some birthday." I mumbled to myself.

She gasped and covered her mouth. "Thirteen. How can someone so young survive without a family?"

Her words must of angered me because in the next instance I was on my feet, despite the pain. "How could I live without a family? My family didn't even care enough to look for me. I tried to linger around my old neighborhood for a while but they never once looked. I bet they don't even know I'm gone. I was invisible then and I'm invisible now. Do you really think that if they found out who I am they would even care? Because I don't. I think they would go about their business and have me locked up in a mental ward somewhere out of the way." I sat back down again. The pain was to much but I continued to speak. "I had a brother once. AJ is what he was called. I never got a chance to met him. He was killed on the job. He would be disappointed in me. I am everything he fought against. Being a policeman and all." I knew this got her attention.

"Your brother was a policeman?" She asked, curiously. "What was his name?"

I shrugged. "I was always second best in dads eyes. He always used to talk about him when I was younger. Saying that I would grow up to be like him and all. I really wish I could of. I was sick when I was little. They thought I was going to die but dad and my Aunt Katie, she wasn't really my aunt but my dads first ex-wife, kept me going. I thought we were going to be a family until dad decided that he didn't love her anymore." I was rambling now but I didn't care. I wanted this to end. I whispered suddenly and then looked to the floor. I had carefully evaded answering her question.

Her eyes had to of widened because she came and sat in the chair next to me and tilted my head up to meet her eyes. "What is your name?"

"What does it matter? I am dead to so many that my name would only bring ghosts from their resting places."

She held my chin so I couldn't look away. She was searching my eyes for something that she couldn't find. She was searching for the old me. "Please. What is your name?"

She asked once again.

No harm in telling her now. "I am known as Theory to all around me but my birth name is Theodore. Theo for short. Theodore Sipowicz and I'm a thirteen year old drug addict and dealer." I said in a monotone voice. "And dead." I muttered.

"Theo?" She whispered out and touched my face as if trying to recognize the boy I once was. Trying to prove my words false or true. Something must of tipped her off because she sat back and stared at me. "Oh Theo. I am so sorry." She leaned forward and pulled me into a light embrace with the appearance that she wasn't ever letting go. "What has your father done?" She whispered into my mattered and dirty hair.

"He did what he felt he had to do and for that you can not think ill of him. He is a good man but it is I who has chanced into the one thing that he can not stand. By my choice or not this is who I have been for five years. That is something he can't and probably will never be able to look past. I am one of the scums of the earth that he has put his life on the line to rid this world of. Be proud that he is such a good man." I had known that I grew up before my time but upon hearing the worlds from my mouth I felt ancient and passed my prime. "Please don't tell him, Connie. Please." I begged once she released me from the embrace.

"You can't ask me to keep this from him. You are his son, Theo. He went crazy with worry trying to find you. Things were hectic that night but he noticed you missing right away. He looked through the house and then outside but you weren't there. For weeks he had people out searching but after six months the search was called off and you were pronounced dead. Your father vowed not to rest until he had you back since he didn't, couldn't, believe that you were dead. But since he was a Detective with enemies they said that anyone could of taken you to get to your father. To get revenge on him for doing his job"

I was once again standing. "I can and am asking you to keep it from him. I'm not Theo anymore. I'm Theory. Theo died five years ago the first time he felt the effects of heroin." I was pleading with the women that was my step-mother. "Me being around won't matter. I'm not that little boy anymore. I can't be that little boy anymore." I shook my head sadly. "Trust me on this. Bring up buried ghosts will only harm you and those you love. The best thing you can do is let me go. Let me rest in peace. Move on with your lives and know that I'm out there, somewhere. I'll be fine."

"Why, Theo? Why would you rather live on the streets than with your family? Explain that to me." She was getting slightly ticked off.

"Because I'm not apart of this family anymore. I've grown into a person that isn't accept in society. I can't change, Connie. I can't. I've tried so many times but I always go back. I'm too far gone. Just accept it, please." My heart was aching for a family. For this family but I'd only hurt them in the long run. Did I really believe that? No. Not really. But I couldn't face my father. He would be so disappointed in me. I don't think I could stand to see the look on his face. I have to stand firm.

Sighing in defeat, she nodded. "Alright, Theo. This is your life. Your choice and if you'd rather live on the streets, so be it. I know forcing you to do something wouldn't be very wise. Just take care of yourself ok. I don't want to be the one to explain to your father why your body was found dead in a gutter somewhere." She was being serious. She'd only tell his father if he was found dead.

"Deal." I stood again and limped to the door, I had been released since they didn't want charges pressed against them for my injuries. I can honestly tell you that I never looked back. Once I was out of there I disappeared into my own world but I did try to kick the whole drug habit.

I stayed on as a dealer but I stayed away from the stuff myself. Soon I found the months rolling by followed by the years. I grew to be one of the most feared dealers on the streets of New York. The police were always sending undercover people in to get enough dirt on me to send me to prison. I was too smart for them and never let them see any of the action. They knew what I was doing but without proof, there was no case against me.

Shortly after I turned eighteen I managed to enroll in several courses at the local community collage. Criminal Justice, so I could get an inside view on everything. By the age of twenty I graduated. The day the Dean handed me my diploma was the happiest day of my life. It was the beginning of the rest of my life. I had changed. After telling Connie that I couldn't. I knew that I would but on my terms. I couldn't be pushed into it or I'd push back. That is what the street taught me. And the street is a very good teacher.

I walk past the Sipowicz house everyday just to see if I can get a glimpse of a friendly face. Usually Eric, my little brother, is out playing and I stop and talk to him. He's seven and very bright. I see a lot of me in him when I was that age. Young and naive knowing nothing about the real world. I leave if Connie or my dad appears. He's tried to tell them about me but no one ever see's me so they think I'm his imaginary friend. It's funny to see them talking to nothing and Eric trying to explain.

Everything was going good. I had my diploma, a good bond with my brother, though he didn't know it was me, a decent place to live, a drug empire that was vast, everything a guy could want. But I guess my visits to the Sipowicz house became a pattern because one day, I was standing outside the little chain link fence like always, talking to Eric when I heard a car coming down the street. It was going slow and I know what that means. I hopped the fence, pulled out my colt .45 and covered Eric's smaller body with my own just as bullets began to fly. I got off several rounds before I realized that I had been hit. Eric was fine and I had begged him not to get help but he ran into the house just as his father and mother came running out after hearing the shooting. They both must of been on vacation because they usually aren't home or at least not together. I knew I was in trouble. It didn't look good. Me with my half empty gun and several bullet holes throughout my body. Last thing I heard before passing out was Eric explaining who I was and the look of anger on my fathers face and recognition on Connie's face.

The first sight my eyes beheld was a all white ceiling and then some machines that were obviously hooked up to me through tubes which stuck out of my arm. I was stiff all over and everything hurt. I wasn't alone in the hospital room, I could see someone in the chair beside my bed but I couldn't turn to see who it was.

"I see your finally awake." The soft voice of Connie Sipowicz filled the room as she spoke. "You were on the table for over sixteen hours. They lost you twice before you stabilized. One of the bullets nicked your left lung so you'll have to go easy for awhile. The other two hit you in the shoulder and leg but those will heal fine." She was nervous. It had been over seven years since she seen the boy, nay, man in front of her.

"Thanks." I managed to rattle out. It hurt to talk hence the lung, I guess. My tongue felt like a pickle. "How...long have I been asleep." The pain was great but I would manage.

"Two weeks. They were worried that you'd never wake up. They had you on so much pain medicine the first week that it kept you asleep and this week they started to decrease it to see if you'd wake up." She smiled at him and brushed a strand of brown hair out of his face. "Your looking well these days. Better than the last time I saw you."

I managed to nod my head slightly then darkness once again filled my vision. I knew she stayed by my side because I could feel her clutching my hand. I must of slept for another day or two because it was dark outside when I opened my eyes again. I felt better. A little stronger and my chest didn't hurt as bad. A hospital tray had been pushed over my bed with a plate of covered food on it. My stomach growled so I pulled the lid off and ate everything on the plate without even knowing what it was until I was finished. It had no flavor but it did the trick and my stomach calmed down. A pretty nurse came in and took it, marking it down on my charts that I had eaten. I was alone this time but not for long. The door opened and I expected Connie to appear but it was Eric, to my shock and surprise. "What are you doing here, kid?" I questioned as I leaned back against my pillow.

"Mom said it was ok for me to visit you. You saved my life." He seemed in awe. "Why save the life of someone you barely know?"

I could only smile at him. "Well. You remind me of someone I knew along time ago. And I didn't want you to get hurt because of me." He was very smart. "Where is your mom now?"

"Mom and Dad are out in the waiting room, talking about something. I was supposed to wait for them but I got bored and found my way here all by myself." He seemed proud of this fact. "Does it hurt?" He asked, quietly.

"Sometimes but it's getting better. The doctors said that I'll be as good as new in a few months." I really didn't want to talk about it but I also didn't want the kid to leave. He was family. And I needed that right now. "How is your sister?" I wanted to change the subject.

He seemed to think for a minute. "Michelle is ok. Mom sent her to visit grandma." He sat down on the edge of the bed.

I never got to see Michelle. She was never outside with Eric. Sometimes she'd come to the door and tell him that dinner was ready but she never came out. I don't think I really minded since I really have no bond with her like I do with Eric. It must be a brother thing. "That's nice. How are you doing, little buddy? That was a lot of excitement for you to go through."

"I'm doing great. Everyone things it's cool that I have such a brave friend." He flashed him a smile.

"Brave? I wouldn't say that. I just didn't want to see you getting hurt because of me. That's all. Nothing brave about that." I was being honest with the kid and it surprised me.

"Because of you? What do you mean, T? Why would anyone want to hurt you?" He seemed so childish in his innocence.

I smiled at the name I had given him. Simply T. Not Theory or Theo. Just T. It seemed fitting. "You can call me Theo since we are friends." I had used my real name in so long that it felt foreign on my lips. "And..." I really didn't know what to say to him. "I did some bad things. That's why they would want to hurt me and anyone that I was close to."

"How could you have done bad things? What kind of bad things? Why did you do them if they were bad? People that your close to? Was your family hurt? Tell me about your family." He stopped and stared.

"Whoa. Slow down there, buddy. Bad things that no one should ever do. And I did them because I had to survive. But I don't want you to every do any bad things. My family...I haven't seen my family in along time. A very long time. Around twelve years. But I saw my step mom seven years ago." I was surprised at how sad my voice sounded while talking about my family. I didn't get to dwell on it because the doors opened again and this time Andy, my father, entered and told Eric to wait with his mom. I was alone with the very man that beat me to a pulp seven years ago.

"I find it a little strange that a grown man is hanging around with a seven year old kid." He sat pulled the lone chair over and sat down. "Care to explain why a drug dealer was hanging around with my kid?"

I knew he wouldn't forget me. "I didn't mean any harm. I was walking home one day and he was outside playing. His ball went over the fence and I tossed it back to him. After that we started to talk. He told me about school and how his dad was a policeman. I sometimes would bring him a candy bar. Nothing went on." I could see the smoldering anger in his eyes.

"If nothing went on why did you keep coming by? Trying to gain his trust so you could lure him out? You disgust me." He leaned closer. "I should of finished what I started all those seven years ago."

His breath smelled like coffee, I know this because I was too scared to know anything else. "Yes. You should of finished what you started." I sounded as if I had given up. "Let me ask you something, do you know what it's like to live on the streets for most of your life? Eating whatever you can find? Dealing with the addiction to drugs that you never wanted? Do you know how hard it is out there?" I raised a hand pointed to the little window.

"I can't say that I do but I know your no good and almost got my boy killed. You shouldn't of ever been near my house and I will make sure that happens. We might not be able to put you away but I can have a restraining order issued. And who's fault is that your on the streets? Your parents? What were they, a whore and junkie?"

I could hear the disgust in his voice and I could feel my anger rising. "No." I started out quietly. "My father was a cop and my mother was a ADA. I never knew her." I turned my head away from him so he couldn't see my tears. I was getting tired of this. I had changed. I really had. The last tie to my street life was my dealings. Something I was working on cutting all together which is why someone would try to take me out.

"Really?" He obviously didn't believe him. "I bet your father was a alcoholic who took bribes. Because no decent cop could of fathered you."

That was my breaking point. I couldn't take anymore. He had crossed a line that I had placed in my head without even realizing it. I snapped and turned to face him again. "I don't know. Are you an alcoholic?" I was trembling with anger and my machines were going crazy as my blood pressure rose.

"What does my being an alcoholic have to do with you? Nothing the last time I checked, I could be mistaken." He was on his feet now, staring at the machines.

"Yes." I hissed out through gritted teeth. "You are mistaken. How can you stand there and go on and on about my family life without knowing who I am? You know nothing about me. All you know is that I'm a drug dealer so that automatically makes me bad. Well, you should look in the mirror because your blood runs through my veins, dad." I spat out the last part like it was poison on my tongue.

His eyes moved from the machines to look at the boy. "Dad?" He looked confused more than angry.

By this time nurse after nurse was running into my room followed by Connie and Eric. She took one look at me and gathered me in her arms as the nurses tried to calm me down. Once I did calm down, I felt empty and alone. For the first time in my life I had admitted something that I had kept buried. I had admitted who my father was and he didn't believe me. "Why...?" It was a simple question and she held me tighter.

"Shh, it's ok. Everything will be ok." She felt kinda silly rocking a fully grown man in her arms but in many ways he was still that little boy that she grew to love. She also knew that Andy had been told about who the boy was since he seemed in shock. "Andy, sit down before you make a fool of yourself. You almost gave him a stroke. What did you think you were doing? This isn't anyway to treat the boy who saved your sons life. Nor anyway for you to treat your own flesh and blood." She looked at him, pointedly.

"My own...I don't understand Connie. Who is this boy? He called me Dad and now..." He really was confused.

She continued to rock him. "I found out seven years ago that Theo was alive but he asked me not to say anything because he knew this would happen. He was a very bright boy but also a scared little boy who needed his family. You beat him to a pulp then, Andy. How could you expect him to stay? He was only thirteen for the love of God and you beat him like a dog. And why? Because you considered him scum for dealing drugs. Something he couldn't help. He did it to survive. And you know what he told me, he told me that his own family couldn't careless about him. They never looked for him when he ran away. That's right, Andy. No one took him. He ran away. I blame myself but I also blame you for that. We unintentionally ignored him and we made him into what he is today." She pulled back once she found him asleep in her arms. "Andy, meet your son, Theo." She left the room with a very surprised Eric who had been listening to everything.


End file.
